Lost Laments
by The Penumbra
Summary: Dying inside, never forgiven, branded forever... no one cares, no one knows, no one hears, no one...I’m scared, I’m alone, I’m afraid.. Who will listen to cries of the lost souls? Draco’s POV after the events in the tower. Snape's POV soon up HBP spoilers


**Disclaimer:** The Harry Pottercharacters belong exclusively to JK Rowling.

**Summary:** Who will listen to cries of the lost souls? Some things remain forever unsaid. Draco's POV after the events in the tower. HBP spoilers!

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**Lost Laments**

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Fear drove him on, lending him the energy he no longer possessed. He had started to run, just like _he_ had told him to, obeying blindly because he could no longer think. He ran like the coward he thought himself, barely noting that Snape wasn't there anymore, not hearing, not thinking, just wanting to run away so fast so as to run away from himself and his guilt. The boy ran and ran and ran until he could no longer hear the ominous sounds of a war already begun.

_Wrong wrong all wrong I never should I could have but I didn't but now it has started and I've already lost and I can't I never really wanted to and I'm sorry and now I don't know_

Deep in the forest, veiled by the darkness he stopped, breathless and shaken, trying to block his thoughts, ignore the emotions which would obscure his reason, trying to think without remembering…

_But I can't do it I can't run away from my thoughts from what I've done from what I've caused from what I am _

He dropped to his knees and vomited again and again, the sound of a body crashing through the glass, the dull thud of the soft flesh hitting the hard, unforgiving stones, echoing through his mind again and again and again and again.

_He's dead and I should have wanted it but I didn't and I still don't and I'm sorry I'm sorry I don't know what to do anymore _

He thought of his mother, and he dug his fingers into the dirt, suppressing the involuntary cry of misery which escaped his lips. She had cried the last time he had seen her, he had _made_ her cry because she knew that he would fail, she knew that they were doomed ever since he had told her why the Dark Lord had sent for him. He had been angry, his pride hurt by her beliefs, afraid that she considered him too weak, unable to live up to his father's expectations, unable to save his family.

_I'm strong I know I am and I'll make it I'll show everyone and even my father will be proud of me and I'll beat Potter I swear I will I will I will.._

But he had failed.

He had never told her that he too was afraid and that he wanted to cry with her because he knew that they were damned; he couldn't show any more weakness because he knew _they_ watched him, ready to break him and his family, leaving them to the Dark Lord's wrath.

She would be as good as dead by now, taken to the Dark Lord who would torture her, make her _scream_ and _scream_ and beg for him to kill her. The boy had seen it happen to others; he had watched and listened and bit his hand hard to prevent himself from screaming out loud, wishing that he could hate them and enjoy their pain but knowing that he couldn't. He was pathetic, so weak that he pitied them because he thought that no one really deserved it, not really.

_Oh God I'm so sorry mother so sorry so sorry I couldn't kill so sorry I failed I failed I am nothing but a failure just like _he_ always said and now you'll die and I love you so much and I never even told you_

His mother would die because he couldn't find the strength within to cast the curse. It should have been so easy to kill a feeble old man, to forget pity, forget his conscience, forget everything but what the Dark Lord commanded.

_But I didn't because I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had taken away a life because I didn't want to kill anyone not even him even though I never liked him I thought I could but I couldn't_

He had allowed him to talk, half-believing the old man's words, half-hoping that there was another way, that even _he_ had a choice. The boy knew that he also hoped that the longer he stalled, the greater the chances that someone from the Order would burst in and kill him, freeing him from the task he had to do, saving him from everlasting hell.

_But no one came and I wanted so much to give up and accept another way I thought I might have a choice I never had any choice before and I was so stupid so stupid to believe that I ever would_

The soft rustling of leaves made him start and his hand flew to his wand instinctively… It was Snape, watching him, face cold and impassive. The boy got up unsteadily, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robes, ashamed that again he had shown his weakness. Was Snape there to take him to the Dark Lord?

"Come."

He followed him without question – putting up resistance was futile. The boy walked quickly alongside the man, avoiding his gaze, afraid of seeing the contempt and anger he knew he deserved. He burned with humiliation when he wondered what his father would have thought, had he known that his son was nothing but a spineless coward. He had lost any chance of proving that he could be like his father.

_I am nothing I never was all the time that I tried I knew that I never could never be like him because I am only myself and I am nothing _

Snape had dealt the final blow; he had shown his true colours by this final act, dispelling any rumours of his actually being on Dumbledore's side and yet… the boy stole a glance at the man's face. That brief exchange of looks between the two men, both legilemens, the instant before the act of one defined them as a murderer and a victim… a small seed of doubt had planted itself in the boy's mind.

But it didn't really matter now. Not to him anyway. Those last few words, unheard, unknown would remain hidden to all. If he were caught by the Order, he would be killed. No one would ask him why - Snape had murdered; the deed was all that mattered, not the cause. The boy had been there and he had caused his headmaster's death; he was as guilty as though he had cast the final curse. Guilt tainted his soul just as the Dark Mark disfigured the skin on his arm.

He followed the man mutely, hiding his thoughts behind a blank façade, trying to at least maintain the last bit of dignity which he possessed. But inside, he screamed with every step, allowing terror and guilt to rage unabated in his soul. Every step was taking him down, down, down, deeper into the unforgiving darkness in which he would eventually drown.

_I'm nothing now but lost soul forever damned, bound irrevocably to the dark side_

_Dying inside never forgiven branded forever no one cares no one knows lost lost nothing left nothing anymore no one hears no one I'm scared I'm alone I'm afraid.._

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I couldn't help writing this… HBP is by far my favourite Harry Potter book. :0) Thanks you for taking the time to read -I would appreciate your comments.I might put upanother chapter, taking it this time from Snape's POV. What do you people think?


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